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Rozanov studied him another moment, then finally extended his hand. “Welcome to Ottawa. I hope you like boring museums.”
“I’m also a big Ilya Rozanov fan,” Troy added. “It’s exciting to have the opportunity to play with him.” “Jesus. Don’t tell him,” Harris joked. “That guy doesn’t need his ego any bigger than it already is.”
Gloating about beating a bunch of hospitalized kids at video games should be rude, but somehow Ilya made it charming.
“The fans will like you more,” Ilya said bluntly. “You, me, puppy, Christmas shit. No one can resist that.”
That guy made fun of people all the time, but he was just so damn likable. And he balanced it by genuinely caring about people, and starting a charity, and being an impressive team leader in his own weird way.
